Two Step
by sleepersamizdat
Summary: Walter makes the connection between "float like a butterfly/sting like a bee."  Shameless fluff but rated M for some course language from a secondary character.
1. Observation by Fire

Snow swirled softly outside the windows of the Brownstone in New York City. A warm glow emanated from the paned windows. If one dared to cast eyes in from across the street, they would be greeted by a crackling fire dancing in the hearth. A knotted Persian rug sprawled out on most of the sitting room and the walls were lined with an extensive book collection. A few floor lamps strategically placed near overstuffed armchairs glowed quietly to illuminate two figures reading intensely. On one side, a well kempt man with a husky frame sat ensconced in his sweater vest and corduroys while holding a book open between the fingers of one hand. A pen in the other hand jotted notes on a note pad balanced on his thigh. Mountains of books and looseleaf papers spilled out around his chair. He was careful to sit furthest from the fire lest his research go up in smoke along with his house. The other individual in the room sat buried in his armchair across the room and close to the fire. He was slight in build and small of frame and the armchair appeared to be consuming him as a last meal. He was intently reading a newspaper and his boney knuckles and knees accented his posture in the chair. Soft music drifted out of the old cathedral radio from its recessed shelf near the doorway.

Daniel Dreidberg was trying desperately to catch up on his research paper. He was becoming frustrated by his resources and was becoming more and more resigned to the possibility of having to plan some fieldwork. Being a prominent ornithologist was complicated when you led a double life as a masked vigilante. Many of the books that teetered around his chair were borrowed from the university but he was quickly approaching the limits to most of the known research and needed some first hand observations. He was cramming his work in between the nights that he and Rorschach had off. He sighed in frustration as he closed the book and laid it atop the pile. He took off his glasses, rubbed his tired eyes, and relaxed back into his chair as he considered his friend on the other side of the room. Dan was glad that Walter finally swallowed his pride and moved in with him in the Brownstone. He didn't have to worry about him freezing to death on nights like this and he was positive that Walter was now getting at least 3 squares. The truth of the matter was that Dan really enjoyed his company and now the old house didn't feel so empty. HE didn't feel so empty.

The radio had been playing the news, which Dan found depressing but Walter had insisted on listening. Both had become enveloped in their reading enough not to notice that the broadcast had long since been over. Now, taking a breather, Dan listened curiously. It appeared the disk jockey favored soul and Dan leaned complacently back in his chair to listen to the drifting music and crackling fire. As a catchy little tune drifted in, a slight bit of motion caught Dan's eye. He focused through his glasses and his mouth almost dropped open from shock. He was careful not to move a muscle from his current position or make a sound. Observation and fieldwork (both in bird observation and criminal observation) taught him stealth when observing creatures that would otherwise run if they caught you spying behavior that is normally hidden from view.

Dan watched as Walter's shoe ever so faintly tapped with the beat of the music. Dan didn't think Walter listened to music much less _enjoyed_ it. Dan didn't move the entire song and at one point Walter shifted to turn the page of his newspaper. He stopped and cast an eye in Dan's direction when he caught Dan staring at him. He wrinkled his brow. "What?"

Dan jumped from the shock of being found out. "Uh, nothing! Nothing! Uh, listen, man, I'm hungry. You, uh, you want something while I'm in the kitchen?"

Walter stared at Dan for what seemed like forever and Dan was afraid that Walter might call him out on his "covert" observation. But he was relieved to find Walter was simply considering his offer in his usual "weigh-all-the-possibilities" type style when he said, "Like what?"

"I don't know." said Dan as he rose to his feet. "Let's see what we have left over." and Walter followed. _Whew!_ Dan thought. _Good recovery. _The thought occurred to Dan that perhaps Walter's keeping of the rhythm was unconscious. He wondered sometimes at his partner's ability to anticipate circumstances in combat. It's almost like he knows where a punch will land before the offensive is even set up. _Still_, the thought nagged him, _Rorschach calculates everything. Maybe he's more human than I give him credit for. Maybe he just won't admit to having a preference for music._


	2. Epiphany by Appliance Store

Walter trudged irately in the misting rain with his sign as he passed a hot dog stand. He had more energy now these days since he was getting food on a regular basis and sleep on something better than a park bench. His cover as an Armageddon obsessed psychopath usually paid off when he sidled up next to the seedier side of town. Criminals just ignored him or wrote him off as they openly talked of their deals to be done that night. Today was a slow day, however, and Walter was becoming frustrated at the prospect of so little in the way of leads for he and Nite Owl's activities. As he passed by a dilapidated record store he absentmindedly began to kick pebbles in the street. He turned down an alleyway and kicked a few cans and the side of an overflowing dumpster. The ringing sheet metal belched a pile of old sheet music and Walter realized that the record store must be closing and they were tossing items they didn't sell in their liquidation. Curiosity, or as Walter calls it "investigating skills", got the best of him and he tipped the overflowing lid on the trash bin up to rifle through the pile. He pulled out a faded folder that read "Two Step! Impress your friends!" Walter's eyes creased as he squinted and frowned disapprovingly at the garish cover with couples in sock hop attire. Brazen smiles were plastered on their printed faces as they enjoyed themselves on their printed paradise. Crinkle marks appeared where Walter was holding the folder as he began to curl the hand holding the paper into a fist. The abrupt slam of a taxi car door across the street jolted Walter's concentration and his head bobbed up reflexively to track the commotion.

A woman in a tacky fur coat with a bad dye job and a run in her fishnets shook her fist as the taxi drove away. "It's fuck'n highway robbery!" and as she swore her cigarette fell from her lips into a rancid puddle of water in the cracked pavement on the sidewalk. "FUCK!" she raged as she swung around to enter the storefront of an appliance store and dramatically slammed that door too.

"Whore." Walter whispered as he watched her disappear through the glass door of the appliance building, shrieking the whole time no doubt. His eyes focused back and over at the display of television sets in the window along with lamps and vacuums. The vacuums weren't running but the televisions were on with various programs on each screen and all the lamps were on in the window displaying their ambience. Walter found himself in front of the shop display with a hand on the glass. He couldn't tell if it was the building's heating system or all the lamps and televisions that were switched on that was making the glass so warm. "Waste of electricity." He mumbled as he passed judgment on the latter hypothesis. His eyes followed the patterns on the television sets. One large set in an elegant wooden case showed a couple ballroom dancing. A modern looking set in a white case was showing a channel in which a woman was demonstrating a new washer while the smaller green one next to it displayed a program about cooking. The small red television next to the wooden one had a boxing match on its screen while a bigger set above it displayed the news. While a voice in his mind said he should have been watching the news, he found his eyes resting on the boxing match and by proximity, the ballroom dancing. He watched the boxers dodge and lunge at each other and then watched the dancers lunge and dip around each other. Feet were light and movements fluid as both activities travelled along the same thread in his mind. His nose was almost to the glass when the slam of the store door travelled through the display glass with a jarring explosion into his hand. He pulled away as if it had burned him and his eyes met a fat man in a cheap suit with a bad hairpiece.

"Why don't you keep on fuck'n mov'n there, buddy? 'The end is nigh' don't exactly move any merchandise and seein' your raggedy ass in front of my display ain't exactly good business."

The man flipped a quarter at Walter and the coin bounced off his lapel onto the ground. Walter clenched the dancing lessons folder in his hand and turned to walk away, barely willing himself not to kill this sunofabitch right here, right now. He didn't even hear the man screaming expletives at him for not taking his quarter and continued to lumber down the street as he stuffed the crinkled folder into his tattered coat pocket.


	3. Covert Ops

Dan tried his best not to drop anything as he stumbled through his front door with arms full. He unceremoniously dumped the grocery bags onto the kitchen table and sighed as he shoved the milk into the refrigerator. Pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose he could hear the shower running upstairs and he was guessing Walter was home from his "investigations" and now he was getting ready for patrol. Dan threw himself into his overstuffed armchair near the fireplace and groaned at the sight of his stack of research papers. His hand came up to grasp his forehead as he thought in exasperation that there would be no time to progress on his paper for another two days. He and Walter had patrol until Friday. Dan just sighed and rested a bit before he had to haul himself up and get ready as well. A scrap of paper caught his attention. It was sticking out from under an ottoman near the fireplace. Dan squinted from between the fingers that rested on his head. It wasn't from his research papers. This paper looked different. He rose to cross the room and tug it out from under the ottoman. It was a thinner type of paper and it was a cut shape that resembled a kidney shape or a . . .a foot? A red number seven was stamped on it. _Where the hell did this come from? _he thought.

Walter stood in the middle of the carpeted living room. His toes sunk luxuriously into the Persian rug as he clutched a set of directions in his hands. At first, it was hard to practice in here because the pattern markers would slide about with the barest of breezes but Walter found a dot of masking tape did the trick. It still didn't explain what happened to number seven. He frowned. Oh well, a small dot of tape would have to suffice. After all, it was just one marker and it was easy enough to resolve with just one piece of tape. He scanned the directions once more and slowly went through the motions again. After a week, it was easier now but he always forgot that one part. Damn! Why does he always forget that one part? Maybe some music would help. He clicked on the cathedral radio. Music made it more fun because he could actually visualize it happening. Muscle memory set in better and he felt that he could even get better at embellishing the moves with his own movements. Sometimes when he screwed up and couldn't figure out where to get back into the pattern in the middle of the song, he just practiced sparring to the beat and he found that his motions were more fluid and he felt more limber. Shit! He did it again. He should have turned there but didn't quite carry though. Oh to hell with it. Left hook. Right hook. Uppercut. Dip. Spin. Left hook. Bong! The grandfather clock in the hallway tolled the hour. Walter's head snapped over to see it was six o'clock. Oh, hell. Time had gotten away from him and he was supposed to stop and clean up the evidence by five thirty. Daniel usually gets home by six fifteen. Walter's head snapped back to the living room window to see a brown curly pate approaching above the boxwoods up the sidewalk. Daniel must have left early! Walter scrambled like mad to rip up pattern markers and small dots of tape. He stuffed everything into the folder and jammed it into the cabinet near the fireplace and flung himself into the overstuffed chair nearby as if he'd been napping. He hoped his breathing would slow before Dan made it through the door. Otherwise, his cover was blown.


	4. And Now

"And now," the radio announcer said over the soft hiss of radio static that echoed barely above a whisper from Dan's old radio, "a special request for Sam and Dave so that all my fingers stay intact." and the catchy little tune began.

Dan wrinkled his nose and turned his attention slightly from the research paper he had gotten lost in. "Did that sound off to you?" he said but then jumped with a start to find Walter standing right in front of him. Dan looked up to see Walter's mouth curled up in the corner as he peered down at him through creased eyes. Dan's mouth dropped open, "What did you do?" he asked in suspicion. Walter said nothing but retained his stare and extended his hands to Dan who took the cue to grasp them and rise from his chair.

As the familiar notes of "Soothe Me" began thrumming from the radio, Walter leaned down to turn the volume knob up and strode to the rhythm with Dan to the middle of the room. Dan watched in amazement as the slight red head slipped his knobby fingers around Dan's waste and began the buoyantly guide him around the living room. Dan burst out in disbelieving laughter, "Two step! YOU know how to two step? Since when did you know how to dance?"

Walter looked up at him and Dan was delighted to see a self-satisfied and self-amused smile plastered all over his face. Dan had NEVER seen Walter smile like this and this sudden turn of events was shocking. Had his partner's mentality been compromised or was this a break through? Walter's weathered face was pulled back in a smile and his freckled skin looked like crumpled tin foil and his blue eyes glittered under his dark brow._ I'm just going to go with it._ thought Dan. _This is definitely not baseline but this is the happiest I've ever seen him._

"Underestimation, Daniel." Walter rumbled as he rocked back on his heel and bobbed to the side.

"What?" said Dan, trying to keep up.

"Didn't know. Learned."

"Uh, okay. I mean, . . . I mean it's good that you want to learn new things, buddy." Dan said almost stumbling over his own foot on the carpet.

"Out of practice, Daniel." Walter gruntingly teased.

Dan pushed his glasses up on his nose and cleared his throat, "Well, ah, I'm used to leading."

Walter abruptly stopped and his face fell as he cocked his head to the side. Dan felt like he had just blown out another person's birthday candles. "Hrmm" Walter grumbled as his eyes flickered from the floor to Dan's face and back to the floor again. "Hadn't anticipated of that."

Dan didn't want to ruin the moment. "No, no! I'll keep up. Keep going! You know what they say about dancing. If you have a good partner, the rest is effortless."

Walter appeared not to need much more argument and resumed with a bob to guide Dan through the rest of the song. Dan couldn't help giggling like an idiot because the grin plastered across Walter's face. His strong sure grace filled Dan with an effervescent joy he'd not felt in years. Walter himself was chuckling with a low rumble every once and again. The smaller man swung Dan around gently and if Dan strayed off in the wrong direction, he was guided back by a firm but gentle force. Dan felt a vague sensation that this must be what it would look like if Jupiter were to be steered in orbit by Ganymede. Pausing to pad the rising sweat from his brow and shuck his sweater vest, Dan pressed further at his partner's newly odd (well, odd for Rorschach) fascination.

"So, ah," he huffed and then said under his breath, "God, I gotta get into better shape. Anyway, ah, dancing?" he queried as Walter continued some footwork on the carpet. He rocked and turned to the tune of the music.

"Good timing." he skipped a step to glide behind Daniel, "Dexterity, good aerobic activity, problem solving, very similar to boxing." Dan felt two light raps of knuckles at his lower back as Walter fake punched him. "Too slow. Took out you're your kidneys." Dan turned to look behind him but Walter had already popped around to face his front. As Dan turned back around, hearing light motion on the carpet, his cheek met lightly with Walter's waiting fist. "Lights out."

Dan chuckled as he swatted the fist down away from his face. "You learned to dance so you could train better at kicking people's asses?" He pushed his brown curls back out of his face and crossed his arms to look down at his friend.

Daniel looked like he wasn't buying it. Walter had his hands clasped behind his back and was bouncing on the balls of his feet at the Motown that was drifting from the radio speaker. His eyes did an undecided pace back and forth between the carpet and Dan's eyes before he finally shrugged. He looked at the floor and continued to keep time. Dan smiled as he unfolded his arms. "I need some more of that aerobic activity and obviously I'm very rusty. Help me brush up on my skills?" As a grin cracked back into the ginger's face, Dan felt his heart expand in his chest. The smaller man scooped him roughly back around the room. _This is going to hurt in the morning._ Dan thought. _Hurt so good._


End file.
